


The Gardener Routine

by ErikaWilliams



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Gardener Aziraphale, Humor, M/M, Nanny Crowley, Pet Names, The Gardener Routine, making an effort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: In which Crowley expects to get the gardener routine after Aziraphale informs him that he's going to be the gardener, and instead gets... that.





	The Gardener Routine

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching Dharma and Greg and the gardener routine was mentioned as a way to spice up the romance. Naturally, the first thing I thought of was the behind the scenes feature with gardener Aziraphale, and this is where that road took me.

They called it the gardener routine. They couldn’t utilize it very often, given that there weren’t a lot of open green spaces in the city, but on the rare occasion they did make it out to the country, it as a staple to spice things up a little. The routine was simple enough. One of them, usually Crowley, would go out to whatever passed for a garden in the local vicinity, take off his shirt and start poking around in the dirt for a little bit. A few hours and a little bit of effort later, and he usually ended up forgetting why he had come out into the country in the first place. Sometimes he thought that might have been Aziraphale’s plan all along, to thwart whatever he planned on doing by pretending to fall for the gardener routine.

 

“I’ll be the gardener,” Aziraphale volunteered when they had first started discussing how they were going to go about influencing Warlock. What exactly was the angel playing at? He was the better gardener. He didn’t think Aziraphale had it in him to threaten plants into submission. The family might start to get suspicious if their plants started to die under the care of their new gardener. Then Aziraphale would be fired and they would have to completely rethink their plan.

 

Unless… Aziraphale was planning on taking the gardener routine long term. Normally, Crowley was the gardener since he was the one who was supposed to be doing the tempting, but he had to admit he was a little intrigued by the whole reverse role play. Granted, their work with the Antichrist might suffer a little bit if every time he looked out the window Aziraphale was doing his gardening routine. Perhaps that was his plan all along, to distract Crowley from over influencing the child. He wasn’t exactly opposed, but he hadn’t even decided how he was going to integrate himself into the household, let alone inform Aziraphale of his intent.

 

“I’ll sign on as the nanny,” he decided after thinking about it for a few minutes. He had seen Mary Poppins, and it seemed unlikely that children would notice or care if weird or unnatural things happened in the presence of their nanny. Besides, being the nanny would give him a considerate amount of time to lurk at windows, to stare out into the garden and watch Aziraphale work. He should wait a few days before giving into temptation, to see how much effort Aziraphale would put into getting him out of the house and into the yard.

 

“Then it’s settled,” Aziraphale said before taking a sip of his tea. “We’ll start our new jobs tomorrow.”

 

“To tomorrow then,” he said, raising his own wine glass in turn, “and whatever our new jobs may bring.”

 

Unfortunately, things took a sour turn his first day on the job. He knew Aziraphale had been hired on as the new gardener, because when it was time for dinner, the whole household staff was practically abuzz with the news. He had to listen to them while he sullenly fixed himself a plate with the rest of the indoor staff. It just wasn’t fair, not in the least because it should have been him and how terrifying his new persona was. But no, all these biddies could talk about was the new gardener.

 

“Did you see the new gardener?”

 

“Where do you think they pulled that specimen from?”

 

“That new gardener is certainly a sight, isn’t he?”

 

Crowley tried his best not to grumble over his plate, because he was, after all, supposed to be the tight laced nanny, there to teach young Warlock about discipline. Although the tight laced nanny and the rugged gardener did seem like the kind of sordid story that Americans would go for.

 

The point was, his new charge monopolized so much of his time that he didn’t have any time to do any lurking at any windows. Warlock seemed to have an endless supply of questions, all of which seemed to be directed at his fascinating new nanny. Where did she come from, how long was she going to be staying, why did she wear sunglasses indoors? Meanwhile, all the other women of the household were getting all hot and bothered over the new gardener.

 

“Why do you keep going to the window?” his young charge asked on the third day of his employment. The gardener routine was not built to last this long, and at this rate they were going to be making an effort in the middle of the garden. So he had forgone lurking in favor of telling Warlock about auditing.

 

Eventually, the nanny was granted a day off. Or rather, an afternoon off, but that was more than enough time for Crowley. He made his way to the large second story window overlooking the back garden and _lurked._

 

Aziraphale was down there alright, he could recognize that heavenly glow anywhere, down on his knees, poking around in the dirt with a small shovel. Given that no one else ever seemed to see the gardener work, Crowley could only assume Aziraphale had gotten wind of his afternoon off and was putting on a good show for his sake. He was still fully dressed though. He supposed it couldn’t be helped, what with the way the other women were going on about him. Aziraphale would be highly opposed to the suggestion of beating them off with a rake. He definitely had a few hours to spare, and Aziraphale had to know he had been thinking about it all week. Maybe that was why he had kept the shirt on (for now), to keep him from getting too riled up too soon.

 

He double checked to make sure an ever curious Warlock would not be following him and sauntered down the stairs and out the kitchen door. How should he play this? Cool and suave? Or should he just push him up against the nearest wall and punish him for doing the routine incorrectly? They might get fired if they weren’t a little more discrete with their actions, and then they would have to find new disguises to get back in.

 

“Hello, angel,” he purred as he waltzed up behind him.

 

“Oh, hello, dear,” Aziraphale said before patting down the soil and turning so slowly around that Crowley licked his lips in anticipation and -

 

“What do you call that?” he hissed upon seeing the look that Aziraphale had adopted. Clearly the angel did not understand the purpose of the gardener routine.

 

“Call what?” Aziraphale asked, all innocence.

 

“That disguise.” Clearly Crowley had misunderstood the shudder of the women when they had been talking about the new gardener.

 

“It’s my gardener disguise. One of my better ones, I thought.”

 

“I thought we were doing the gardener routine,” he hissed before he caught himself.

 

“Why would we do the gardener routine?” Aziraphale actually seemed affronted by the notion. “There’s a young boy in there who needs our full attention or he may destroy the world.”

 

“Then why did you volunteer to be the gardener?” To torture him most likely for some affront that he didn’t even remember committing.

 

“To keep you from doing the gardener routine. We have work to do.”

 

“So you thought you would take the role of the gardener, disguise yourself like -” he gestured broadly at all of Aziraphale “-that, and I’m just supposed to leave you alone?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Well, it won’t work. The gardener routine is too effective.”

 

Aziraphale sighed. “There’s a shed at the edge of the property where Francis keeps his tools. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”

 

“Good,” Crowley growled as he started off towards the shed. “And you better be shirtless and dirty when you get there.”

 

“Are you sure?” Aziraphale called after him. “Because this disguise comes with a third nipple.”


End file.
